


Meet the Ex

by stilldrivingaway



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Not Beta Read, Post-Season/Series 05, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilldrivingaway/pseuds/stilldrivingaway
Summary: John Constantine meets DJ S’More Money. John has been to hell and back multiple times, and he’s pretty sure this is going to be worse.
Relationships: John Constantine/Zari Tomaz | Zari Tarazi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 88





	Meet the Ex

**Author's Note:**

> Look, if I could have one wish for Season 6, it would be for John Constantine to meet DJ S’More Money. I wrote this because I needed that idea to exist in the world. If anyone else wants to take this idea and run with it, I would be 100% about that.
> 
> Also, I don’t know what John and Zari are really looking for in Zari’s office. In my head, the team needs to contact someone who Zari has some dirt on because she’s connected, but I didn't want to get too into that. It’s a MacGuffin, basically.

“Alright, you two,” Sara’s voice rings out into Zari and John’s earpieces, “be careful. Zari, _do not_ under any circumstances let your previous self see you. That’s a headache we do not want to deal with.”

“Not to worry, Captain!” Zari chirps, “I should be en route to Paris as we speak for Spring Fashion Week 2044!”

“Well, be careful anyway,” Sara responds, “and please try to stay on mission. We’re on a tight schedule and the other half of the team could use backup if you guys get done early. Get to Zari’s office, find the file on your contact that we need, and come straight back. No detours to have sex—the rest of the team can hear you. Especially you, John.”

“No promises, love,” Constantine replies, and even though she doesn’t have a visual, Sara knows he’s smirking.

“Okay, just… try,” Sara sighs before signing off, although she knows it’s already a lost cause. She usually tries to split the pair up on missions for this very reason, but she’s short on options at the moment. Half the team is dealing with an alien artifact they’ve recovered, Behrad might get recognized, and John is absolutely useless as a QB. 

Zari and Constantine reach the door to the Dragonesque offices and she unlocks the door with a quick retinal and fingerprint scan.

“You know,” she grins at John, “I have a very nice couch in my office with a large mirror on the wall…”

She’s pleased that, as always, she can see his brain short-circuiting the tiniest bit; his eyes light up as he pictures what she’s hinting at. They do this almost every time they work together (and near constantly when they’re _not_ working), but it’s been a while since they’ve been on a mission together. She’s satisfied to see she hasn’t lost her touch.

She starts to pull him down the hallway towards her office, past the little kitchen, her merchandising area, and her filming studio.

As they pass the studio, however, the motion-sensitive lights flicker on and John pauses. She’s momentarily put out, before she realizes he’s staring at all the equipment. There are three cameras, a couple ring lights, a screen, a spot, a microphone, boom stand, and two diffusers all set up around a chair and a marble and gold table with a potted succulent on it. Out of sight of the cameras are props and a few boxes of merchandise, neatly stacked.

He raises an eyebrow at all the equipment and notes, “you have a bleeding interrogation room.”

“Oh,” Zari laughs, walking over to the rig, “that’s just where I do make up tutorials.”

John takes it all in for a minute—he’s seen a lot over the years, but this all remains foreign to him. Zari touches the ring light affectionately, and the corner of John’s mouth twitches up as he watches her in her element.

The quiet moment is interrupted almost immediately by the sound of footsteps. John and Zari spring away from the set, looking for anything they can hide behind.

“I thought you said you were in Paris,” John mutters.

“I _am_ ,” Zari hisses and wrinkles her nose, “it’s not me! Whoever’s coming is wearing flats.”

John begins to prepare a spell, his eyes glowing as the footsteps grow near.

“Babe? Is that you?” a voice echoes down the hall.

The speaker rounds the corner and John can see what looks like… a man? With, inexplicably, a rather large plush biscuit on his head. He can feel Zari straighten behind him. She smooths her dress and steps between the two of them.

“Babe!” Zari exclaims, and John looks back and forth at the pair, assessing the situation.

“I thought you were headed for Paris, babe!” the biscuit-man says.

“Oh, I am!” Zari lies smoothly, “my flight just got a little delayed. And I wanted to grab some more lipstick samples from my office.” 

“You’re the hardest working bitch in the game and that’s why I love you, babe,” the biscuit-man says. He seems to notice John at that moment (although it’s a little hard for John to tell where he’s looking, since the man is all toy biscuit from the neck up with no visible eyeholes). “Who’s this?”

John’s eyes narrow and he starts to introduce himself, but Zari smoothly interjects.

“Oh, this?" Zari waves her hand dismissively. "A charity project I’m doing. It’s one of those Make-a-Wish things. This poor guy’s one wish was to meet me before he dies. This is John. John, my boyfriend DJ S’More Money, but then,” Zari giggles and bats her lashes at John in a way he finds a bit off-putting, “you probably knew that being such a superfan of mine.”

Zari pats John on the chest patronizingly and John glares down at her offending hand, still ready for this to go sideways. He's gained a begrudging respect for Zari’s social skills, but he doesn’t find this lie to be particularly compelling. With some warning, he could have cast an illusion to appear as a sick child, but it’s a little late for that now and he supposes he'll have to go with it.

But the s’more man (and Zari’s ex apparently? The idea is frankly mind-boggling to John, who usually tries not to judge too much.) seems to accept this explanation without question.

“Oh cool, babe!” DJ S’More Money exclaims, “great wish. Didn’t realize they did wishes for adults!”

“Actually,” Zari coos slowly, and John can see a plan that he’s sure to hate hatching in her eyes, “honey, could you do me a favor? I need to grab those samples from my office. Do you mind babysitting the, um, invalid for a minute?”

John shoots Zari a glare that he imagines is more powerful than all the magics he possesses combined, but Zari seems utterly unfazed.

“Oh sure, babe!” DJ S’More Money agrees, turning to John, and speaking slowly, “Hey, uh, little buddy, want to hang out for a bit?” 

John has been to hell and back multiple times, and he’s pretty sure this is going to be worse.

Zari breezily air kisses DJ S’More Money on the right side of his s’more before flitting off down the hallway. 

“Have fun you two!” she calls over her shoulder, voice saccharine.

John has been abandoned and betrayed by the one he loves the most yet again. He throws himself, resigned, into the seat where Zari does her makeup tutorials. He pats his coat until he finds a smoke, which he sticks defiantly in his mouth and lights. If Zari is going to abandon him like this, he deserves a cigarette.

“So, uh, what’s the, uh, what do you have?” DJ S’More Money stutters. He's at least speaking to John like an adult now.

“Lung cancer.” 

John takes a long drag. It’s been a long time since he’s had a smoke and it’s as wonderful as he remembers. He’ll try to quit again tomorrow, if he makes it through this particular hellscape.

“Oh. Um…” DJ S’More Money trails off, looking around the space for a seat. He grabs a stool from a corner of the room and awkwardly pulls it alongside John.

“Oh!” the biscuit-man seems to have an epiphany. “I know what we can talk about! You’re probably, like, really curious about me, right? Zari Tarazi’s internationally known superstar DJ boyfriend! Half of the power couple of the year! Yeah, man, just, like… feel free to ask me anything!”

John stares bleakly into the distance.

DJ S’More Money scratches the back of his head biscuit. _What the hell is he scratching?_ John wonders, _he’s just scratching a hideous plush mask, not his actual bleeding head._

“Maybe I should go see if Zari needs help…” DJ S’More Money starts to rise.

“No!” John interjects, “look, mate, you’re right, I… I have loads of questions for you, seeing as Zari is your, ahem, ‘ _babe_.’” John scoffs a little, drawing out the last word.

Truthfully, John has no idea what he want to ask DJ S’More Money. The situation has raised a few niggling questions in the back of John’s head. Is this really what Zari wanted? Wants? What she had before she and John started doing… whatever they’re doing. A famous, uncomplicated life? But those are all questions about Zari, and, anyway, John doubts that this tosser has the mental capacity to answer them. 

“Tell me about your… illustrious career,” he finally manages.

Apparently that’s all it takes for the biscuit to settle into a long, boring blather. 

“Oh yeah!” DJ S’More Money exclaims, “well, see, I always knew I wanted to be a DJ for the girls, you know, man? Hey, you’re like, Australian right? I fucked three Australian girls at once this one time, you know… your people really know how to have a good time ‘down under’ if you know what I mean!” DJ S’More Money winks at John.

John opens his mouth to correct DJ S’More Money, before thinking better of engaging and potentially encouraging him further. John shoots DJ S’More Money a strained half smile-half grimace and refocuses his energy on thinking of a happier place. Like anywhere else he’s ever been.

Despite John’s complete disengagement, DJ S’More Money prattles on, a stream of complete and utter crap flowing from his mouth. While John mostly manages to block out the words, he finds himself a big agog at just how inane Zari’s ex seems to be. Any lingering feelings of jealousy ( _not that there were any in the first place,_ John thinks to himself) have completely evaporated. How on earth could a woman as worldly and accomplished as Zari Tarazi have ended up with such an absolute knob? John scans the stitched dollar signs DJ S’More Money has over his eyes, searching for any possible value that Zari might have seen.

I mean, John Constantine has had more lovers and boyfriends and girlfriends than he can keep track of, so who is he really to judge? He’s dated literal demons and had a whole thing with a part-shark, part-man whose mouth was large enough that John could have fit his head in it. Despite this, John still finds himself a bit rankled at the idea of his Zari wasting her talents with this idiot.

DJ S’More Money continues to yammer on intolerably. As John stubs out his cigarette on the marble table and prepares to light a second, an unfamiliar young woman enters the room. She seems to be in her 20s and wears a timid look that reminds John a bit of Mona Wu. 

As the woman spots John, she stops suddenly, looking nervously between John and DJ S’More Money. DJ S’More Money’s infernal monologue grinds to a halt mid-sentence as he springs to his feet and turns to the young woman.

“Uh, hey man, this is Zari’s assistant, Les-Lay. Zari must have… called her for help looking for the samples. Zari’s in her office,” DJ S’More Money says.

“Oh! Yes! I was just… doing that!” Les-Lay exclaims.

_Well this is interesting,_ John thinks, leaning forward in his seat to consider the pair. He knows for a fact that Zari hasn’t called this girl, seeing as Zari was lying about needing the samples. _So what is she doing here?_

John suddenly recalls last year, when he and Zari were first getting to know each other. They were in his house in another time, looking for a piece of the loom. He was as drunk as a fish for half the night, but he can still remember a lot of it, and a lot of Zari. The way she had instantly commanded the room and his attention when she flung the doors open as Cleopatra; the wind totem on Zari’s slim wrist, drawing his attention up her bare arm; and the smell of her hair when she was pressed against him. He also remembers her sitting across the table from him, hollowly admitting that her boyfriend was sleeping with her assistant and that she’d just decided to ignore it.

As John puts the pieces together, rage flares up in his stomach. He had thought DJ S’More Money was just a harmless boor, but John sees now just how far this undeserving oaf has his head stuck up his own ass.

John quickly reaches out and snaps a bit of leaf from the succulent on the table. If he can get a piece of clay from somewhere he can curse this wretched piece of shit to kingdom come.

Just as he’s resigned himself to breaking Zari’s plant so he can use the pot, Zari sweeps back in, taking stock of the room and John’s hand wrapped around the vase. She strides over and smacks his hand away from the unoffending plant.

“Hope you two had a good chat,” she says brightly, “but John and I really need to get going to catch that flight.” She turns to her assistant, unfazed by her presence, and commands, “Les-Lay, make sure I have a guest list for tonight’s after party by the time I land.”

Les-Lay shrinks in Zari’s presence, even more cowed, if that’s possible, and nods. DJ S’More Money’s shoulders drop, apparently relieved that she isn’t asking any questions, just issuing orders.

“Have a safe flight, babe,” DJ S’More Money says, hugging her and pressing the side of his s’more against her cheek. As they pull away, Zari dispassionately fixes a few wayward strands of hair that have clung to the mask's fabric. 

“Mmmhmm, we will!” Zari smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes as she turns to John, who is still seated. “Come, John, it’s time.”

Without a second glance at anyone else in the room, she pivots and marches out of the room. Loathe as he is to let the philandering pair go unpunished, John rises to follow her.

“You’re a lucky bastard,” he growls at DJ S’More Money as he brushes past him; the biscuit seems blithely unaware of just how close he came to a life of using his asshole to eat and breathe.

John has to lengthen his stride to catch up to Zari, who is already at the front door.

“I was just about to have a bit of fun, love,” he complains when he reaches her, opening the door.

“Oh, I know,” she says archly as they exit the building, “I saw you manhandling my plant. _And smoking._ So. Idiotic. I'm sure past me would have dumped him immediately, after you did whatever you were going to do to him! You could have ruined the timeline.”

“Ah, come on,” John sighs, “he’s a complete wanker and he was cheating on you. You dump him in a few months anyway, what’s the harm in speeding up the process a bit?”

Zari wheels around to face him.

“Look, John,” she snaps, pressing a finger to his chest, “I like how things ended up. And whether you like it or not, DJ S’More Money and all the other shitty things I was feeling when I first met you guys are a part of how and why I ended up staying on the Waverider. I’m not endangering the timeline by ending things too soon, even if he does deserve it. Maybe it won’t make a difference, but maybe it will and I’m not risking what I have.” 

She softens a little, hand expanding on his chest, before continuing, “I’m not risking what _we_ have. Not for that idiot.”

The corner of John’s mouth twitches into a smile as he looks at her.

“Fair enough,” he acknowledges gently, draping an arm around her and kissing her head as they start to walk down the sidewalk together to the Waverider.

“Anyway,” she shrugs, “in the future I’ve already hacked into all his social media accounts and destroyed his reputation and follower count on CatChat. In a year no one will remember his name or his shitty music.”

John can’t help but chuckle; he should have guessed as much already. 

“So…” John smirks, “one more question. When the pair of you did the deed, did he keep that biscuit on or…”

“Oh shut up, John!” Zari shoves him gently away from her, before, almost immediately, reversing course and pulling him back in for a kiss. 

John grins and slides a hand into her hair, deepening the kiss. Zari’s hand runs up the front of his shirt, fingers searching blindly for buttons to undo. The pair duck into the closest alley they can find, feverishly making out. 

“Ahem…” Sara’s voice breaks in, more amused than exasperated, “you two lovebirds are still on comms and we need to go. Get back here and finish your sordid deeds when you’re on board.”

“Right you are, Captain,” John says, as the pair break apart, a little out of breath, “although I remember a time when you weren’t _quite_ so on task.”

Zari rolls her eyes and exits the alley, tugging on John’s hand to lead the pair back to the ship.


End file.
